Mom poems

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Ode To The Spirit Of The Earth In Autumn

© George Meredith

The crimson-footed nymph is panting up the glade,
With the wine-jar at her arm-pit, and the drunken ivy-braid
Round her forehead, breasts, and thighs: starts a Satyr, and they
speed:
Hear the crushing of the leaves: hear the cracking of the bough!
And the whistling of the bramble, the piping of the weed!

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Unfulfilled

© Madison Julius Cawein

In my dream last night it seemed I stood

  With a boy's glad heart in my boyhood's wood.

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A Wish

© Edgar Albert Guest

I'd like to be a boy again, a care-free prince of joy again,

  I'd like to tread the hills and dales the way I used to do;

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The Lord Helps His Devotees

© Sant Surdas

The voice falters

when it sings of the deeds of the Lord

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The Little Left Hand - Act I

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt


Place
A Country Town in England.

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Lines: We Meet Not As We Parted

© Percy Bysshe Shelley

I.
We meet not as we parted,
We feel more than all may see;
My bosom is heavy-hearted,
And thine full of doubt for me:--
One moment has bound the free.

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What Have We All Forgotten?

© Henry Lawson

WHAT have we all forgotten, at the break of the seventh year?
With a nation born to the ages and a Bad Time borne on its bier!
Public robbing, and lying that death cannot erase—
“Private” strife and deception—Cover the bad dead face!
Drinking, gambling and madness—Cover and bear it away—
But what have we all forgotten at the dawn of the seventh day?

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Archduchess Anne

© George Meredith

In middle age an evil thing
Befell Archduchess Anne:
She looked outside her wedding-ring
Upon a princely man.

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Booz Endormi

© Victor Marie Hugo

Booz s'était couché de fatigue accablé ;
Il avait tout le jour travaillé dans son aire ;
Puis avait fait son lit à sa place ordinaire ;
Booz dormait auprès des boisseaux pleins de blé.

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OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII (Entire)

© Alfred Tennyson

Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
 Thou madest man, he knows not why,
 He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.

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The Voice

© Sara Teasdale

ATOMS as old as stars,
Mutation on mutation,
Millions and millions of cells
Dividing yet still the same,

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The Legend of La Brea

© Charles Kingsley

Down beside the loathly Pitch Lake,
In the stately Morichal,
Sat an ancient Spanish Indian,
Peering through the columns tall.

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Fit The Third - The Baker's Tale

© Lewis Carroll

There was silence supreme! Not a shriek, not a scream,
Scarcely even a howl or a groan,
As the man they called "Ho!" told his story of woe
In an antediluvian tone.

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Of The Nature Of Things: Book III - Part 03 - The Soul Is Mortal

© Lucretius

Now come: that thou mayst able be to know

That minds and the light souls of all that live

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The Secrets Of Divine Love Are To Be Kept

© William Cowper

Sun! stay thy course, this moment stay--
Suspend the o'er flowing tide of day,
Divulge not such a love as mine,
Ah! hide the mystery divine;
Lest man, who deems my glory shame,
Should learn the secret of my flame.

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With An Armchair

© James Russell Lowell

I.

About the oak that framed this chair, of old

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The Soldier's Funeral

© Letitia Elizabeth Landon

The muffled drum rolled on the air,
Warriors, with stately step, were there;
On every arm was the black crape bound,
Every carbine was turned to the ground;
Solemn, the sound of their measured tread,
As silent and slow, they followed the dead.

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Dauber

© John Masefield

I

Four bells were struck, the watch was called on deck,

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Meeting In The Woods

© Madison Julius Cawein

Through ferns and moss the path wound to
  A hollow where the touchmenots
  Swung horns of honey filled with dew;
  And where--like foot-prints--violets blue
  And bluets made sweet sapphire blots,
  'Twas there that she had passed he knew.

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The First Hymn Of Callimachus. To Jupiter

© Matthew Prior

While we to Jove select the holy victim

Whom apter shall we sing than Jove himself,